


You Got Your Rain

by Briski



Category: Glee, blaine anderson - Fandom, chris colfer - Fandom, darren criss - Fandom, klaine - Fandom, kurt hummel - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briski/pseuds/Briski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes loss can bring people together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Got Your Rain

Blaine Anderson tried to visit his dad every day after school. Rain or shine, he made the walk. Sometimes he brought snacks, or music to listen to. Most of the time, he just told Dad about his day.  On March 3rd, he brought a birthday gift with him. Every year he wracked his brain for what a good gift might be for his father. Jonathan Anderson never had been one for the traditional ‘father’ type gifts. Blaine had never purchased his father a tie, or golf club. He knew that his dad preferred gifts of the homemade variety.

This year, he had written a song. He left school, and walked the several blocks through the drizzly rain. His father always had loved the rain. His backpack was heavy with books, and he had his guitar in hand. Grass squished beneath his feet, and rain water seeped through his tennis shoes as he walked toward his destination. When he arrived, he pulled his backpack off, and pulled out the sheet music he had written his song on. He set it in front of his dad, and began to play. He sang quietly. It was a song of love, loss and hope. It was one his favorites he had ever written. He was sure that his dad would like it.

Kurt Hummel was, at first, startled when he began to hear music drifting toward him. He rose from where he was kneeling, and walked a few feet away, eventually finding the source. A handsome boy about his age stood a few yards away. He wore plain jeans, and a grey jacket. His hair was gelled into a perfect style that the rain was beginning to spoil. He sang softly as he strummed his guitar. It struck Kurt that the boy didn’t look sad. He even smiled a few times as he played along. His voice was beautiful. Kurt wondered who he was playing for.

Blaine finished his song, and couldn’t help but smiling. It had come off just how he hoped. “What did you think, dad?” he asked quietly. “I hope you liked it. Happy Birthday. I love you. Are you doing anything fun today?” There was no answer, of course. There never would be an answer, because Jonathan Steven Anderson had died when Blaine was 14 years old. The pain still cut like a knife sometimes, but Blaine had learned to remember the good times. They all dealt with the grief differently. Blaine’s mother, Sissy, had turned to alcohol. He was often left with the responsibility of taking care of his younger brother, Timothy. Timothy, now 12, didn’t like to mention his father. He chose to live in a world of denial. It made for an uncomfortable living situation to say the least. Every once in awhile they would have old family friends over, and they would all play their happy parts. It almost made Blaine sick. It was so fake. When he was here, talking to his dad, though, there was no judgment. Jonathan had been an honest and faithful husband. He was a loving and patient father. Blaine missed him terribly.

Kurt didn’t visit his mother’s grave very often. The reason he found himself here, on this drizzly March day, was to say ‘Happy Birthday’. Had Elizabeth Hummel still been alive, she would be turning 40 today. Kurt had driven here after school. He brought flowers, and cleaned the area around her headstone. He couldn’t believe she had been gone from him for so long. His memories of her were starting to get few and far between, and he hated that. He felt like he was losing her. He could barely remember her voice, or the way it felt to hold her hand. The one thing that he remembered with intense clarity was the ways he smelled. She always smelled of lavender. He kept the scent around him as often as he could, and remembered his mother with fondness. He could use a mother right now. He really could.

Kurt had just been about to leave when he had heard the music. Now, he stood and watched as the boy played the soft song. The song ended and the boy began to pack up his guitar. Kurt turned, and began to sneak away, not wanting to intrude. “I felt you watching me” the boy called out after him.

“I’m so sorry!” Kurt blushed wildly, turning back around to face the boy. His expression wasn’t accusatory, or angry, just curious. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just heard you singing. You sounded really good. What song was that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The boy blushed slightly, himself. “Uh, I wrote it. It doesn’t have a name yet. I wrote it for my dad. For his birthday.” He shrugged, and pushed back a piece of hair that the rain had caused to fall across his face. “I know it might sound kind of dumb…but I kind of like to think he hears me.” He motioned behind him to the headstone.

Kurt moved nearer the other boy, and shook his head. “No,” he spoke quietly. “No, it’s not dumb at all. He hears you. He hears every word. At least, that’s what I believe.” He offered a small smile, and held out his hand. “I’m Kurt, by the way.”

“Hi Kurt, I’m Blaine,” Kurt’s hand was soon enveloped by Blaine’s larger one. “This is my dad, Jonathan. It’s his birthday today.” Blaine hoped Kurt wouldn’t think he was crazy, introducing his father as one would a living person. Kurt had already seen him singing to the headstone, though, so if he hadn’t run off yet, Blaine supposed he was safe.

“It’s my mother’s birthday too,” Kurt spoke softly, and forced himself to let go of Blaine’s strong hand. “I came to visit, and bring flowers.” He motioned toward a plot a few yards away, adorned with a bouquet of gorgeous purple flowers. “Her name is Elizabeth. She’d be 40 today.”

“Nice to meet both of you,” Blaine spoke quietly, bowing his head. The rain was starting to pour down harder, and it slid down his cheeks in rivulets. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “My dad always did love the rain. I guess he got what he wanted for his birthday.” Blaine’s smile was beautiful, and his laugh was infectious. He shivered a little at the cold, as the wetness began to soak through his jacket.

Kurt smiled himself. There was something about the joy in this boy that brought his own joy bubbling to the surface. In such a sad place, under such unfortunate circumstances, this boy, Blaine, was making him smile. Kurt needed something to make him smile these days.

A crack of thunder rang out through the air. It was Kurt’s turn to laugh now. “My mother loved thunderstorms. I think they’re having a party up there, Blaine.”

They stood in the storm together for several long moments, laughing like lunatics, before Kurt finally spoke.

“Blaine, would you like to celebrate our parents’ birthdays with me over coffee? I’ll buy, if you play me another song.” Kurt was surprised by himself. He was never so forward, especially with strangers. He felt a pull to Blaine, though. It was so nice to know someone understood. Not many people his age had lost a parent, and he would never wish them to, but Blaine knew. He knew what it was like.

“I’d love to,” Blaine replied, and smiled again, as they began to walk through the muddy grass. Kurt walked a little ways ahead, to open his car door. Blaine turned, and waved goodbye to his father, as he always did, promising to be back again the next day. He hoped he would be returning with stories of a beautiful boy with rosy red cheeks. “Dad, this is Kurt,” he whispered quietly. “I like him. Take care of his mother, please. Happy Birthday. You got your rain.”


End file.
